The Snake Within
by JaimynsFire
Summary: *READ ME!* The aftermath of Severus' journey to the Whomping Willow.
1. Rememberance

Chapter One: Remembrance  
  
It's very rare when I find myself staring at a piece of parchment and feel compelled to write down every last bit of my feelings. I'm not a person who feels really, at least on the exterior. Most might say it's because of my past, then others imagine that it's just a poorly draped façade that I put on to keep my cover so darkly hidden. Perhaps both sides of the Sickle are correct, but even I don't know why I'm not nearly as emotional in outward appearance as I'd like.  
  
Perhaps, if I were a psychologist, I would subscribe that this reason is because I have an inert fear of showing my true self, and there I have a complex within myself, that self-loathing has filled in the gap where self- love should be. It is most fortunate that I am NOT a psychologist; many a client would be frightened away with a brandishing of a wand. The true reason why I can't show feelings to anyone but this parchment, is that I can't really be bothered with feelings any longer in my life, period. End of diagnoses.  
  
Of course there is the tragic story behind all this. I had loved once, but then again I can't quite call it that, as I have no idea what it truly is. So lets say, I felt very deeply for someone that felt very deeply for me, but destiny had other plans, of course. You could say we were too young to know, too young to realize the consequences, and I was too young to save the moment. So now I've become the shell, the exterior of some little bug that had once had a warm heart, and arms that longed to hold someone. The more I ruminate over the past, the more it aches deep down inside me.  
  
Let me explain how this all evolved. We met in various occasions, never once was she completely alone. Her name was Lily Evans. She had gentle red hair, which hung just below her shoulder blades. Every year it was the same length; I admired the fact that she seemed to cling onto a semblance of normality at all times. Actually the first I had ever really noticed her was my fifth year at Hogwarts, I was fifteen, and I was content to just involve myself in my books and studies. Every time I would sit down to read in the library, I would smell the dainty fragrance of lilies waft slowly towards my senses. I couldn't help a dissatisfied fidget as I would try and escape this assault. I felt this was most definitely a personal attack upon me, which I was ill, prepared. She would always be reading something much heavier than even she was. She had also tried desperately to study on her own, but she always had that mischievous look upon her face, so it didn't surprise me that other times I would see her about the grounds she was with the four most aggravating and annoying bunch of gits imaginable.  
  
Potter, Black, Pettigrew, and Lupin. None of which I could stomach being around let alone being partnered up with. Of course I had the constant insult of being paired up with Sirius Black in Potions. He was inept in everything, from humor to basic potion making. He was constantly grinning at me, and if I'd smelled a dung bomb once it was a million times. I'd tried to hold back any resemblance of anything I might have for the prat, but he'd pushed me too far that year. One day, we were just doing preparations for a simple disinfectant potion (which I will NEVER let my students make, to this day, completely pointless) when Black felt it absolutely necessary to take his wand and dip it in the potion. I failed to stop him in time, as toads of shapes and sizes began to hop out of the cauldron. His wand came out half disintegrated; his smile on the other hand had the gleam of the brightest star. He turned to his best friend, "LOOK AT THAT, JAMES!" They both danced around it like two banshees in a deserted castle.  
  
At first I was indifferent, but as I had two toads sitting on my head, and the laughing just became so infuriating, I could feel it in my toes, and it moved quickly to my stomach. The nausea turned into a burning in my chest, spreading outward to my fists as they balled tightly. The flippant hopping around of the two boys, the blank and confused look of Pettigrew (it was always apparent), the croaking of every last toad around me, it all made the burning so very hot in my system.  
  
I'd forgotten about my wand tucked neatly in my school robes and I wheeled around, caught Black by the shoulder and punched him straight in the eye. The shock was heard all around the classroom. I had just hit the most popular and lovable kid in all of our year, maybe in all of the school. James didn't know what to do or say either. The professor certainly did. He was an old wizard of many years, and very little of him was still distinguishable. Probably too many disinfectant potions in his time, he smelled of old garlic cloves. He immediately stunned me and sent me flying out of the dungeon classroom. I landed on the stone floor outside the wooden door. As I stood up, there was the silent and still face of Headmaster Dumbledore. I knew that this was the end of my quiet and innocent existence in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 


	2. Punishment

A/N: Weehoo! An update so soon, it must be the luck of the Irish! *grins haplessly* I think that Severus thinks he can bunk with ME now. Gosh he's wordy too, Remus was never so difficult! *gets glared at* Opps.  
  
Anyway, I'd like to thank my two reviewers. Tantz and Darkhorse! Perhaps I gain a few more? Eh, eh, eh? Push the button.puuuuuuush it! *points to review button* You know you want to, I'll love you LONG time!  
  
Summary: After his clash with Sirius (mostly his fist with Sirius' eye), Severus remembers his encounter with the Headmaster, and then plots his revenge upon said Sirius. Quidditch to come soon!  
Chapter Two: Punishments  
  
I dragged myself behind the Headmaster, cursing that dreadful Black in my mind, and I knew that the next time I met up with him he would be hexed polka dotted, if he was lucky. We made our journey passed the gargoyle in silence, save for the muttering of the old man of something similar to "Tutti Frutti". At the time I thought it was just the utterance of an extremely eccentric man, that my father called other long names that weren't quite so elegant.  
  
In my family life, you were either all for the Green and Silver, or you were most likely the worst creature to crawl over the upper crust of the planet. My mother was a self-indulged woman that lavished upon herself all the things in life my father wouldn't afford her. They both were highly influential in the world of wizarding politics, they just had different forums. As my mother was shops and social committees, my fathers' social obligations were more of the cultist at the time. He was a High Member in the Dark Lords Order. He was one of the first called upon when Lord Voldermort (if Harry Potter has done anything for me, its given me the nerve to write that name without clasping a forearm first) had a craving for Muggle Born torture and ultimately death.  
  
It was always assumed that I would follow in my fathers' path, and everyone knew to keep very still around me. A rumor was started in my first year that I knew more hexes and curses than any seventh year. The idea is nearly hysterical to think about, but it certainly kept the unsavory and idealistic away from me. Unfortunately it kept away most of the breathing population, and some of the un-breathing as well. As I would walk the halls to get to my classes, I could hear that unbearable Gryffindor ghost, Sir Nicholas, prattle on about my terrible home life. I passed it off as arrogance.  
  
But, I digress from my recollection. The headmaster motioned for me to sit on a chair that was all too recently fidgeting back and forth towards the fire. I sat on the edge; I sat on my hands, as was the fitting way in Slytherin House. Our head of house was not entirely up to long talks with cups of cocoa. He was more in corporal punishment with a very large paddle. Breathing the wrong way could give you welts for weeks. In many ways, the spite in my eyes at the time when regarding the Headmaster was for hiring a monstrous fellow such as our Head.  
  
"Severus, what are your plans for post graduation?"  
  
The question didn't seem odd at all, and I mechanically began to answer him in what I had been thoroughly taught to respond.  
  
"I want to become a Potions Master, and work for the Ministry of Defense, in order to help my research. My goal is to be able to cure vampire-ism, and other afflictions caused by supernatural forces."  
  
I added a weak smile, so that I wouldn't have to press on with the rest of the unlikely story. The truth of the matter was that I was already handpicked to become on the Dark Lords new initiate Death Eaters when I turned eight-teen. There was no fighting it, and I wasn't exactly against the idea of being somewhat safe in an unsure world. I never thought of anyone else but myself usually in those years.  
  
The Headmaster looked at me in an examining manner, then took his half moon spectacles off and rubbed the bridge of his nose.  
  
"Severus, I'm afraid that what you did in Potions is very disturbing to the staff. Yes, they all know, it's not everyday a student flies out of the Potions classroom. Charms, yes, but not Potions."  
  
Something in me seethed noticing that he was trying to make me laugh or smile even just a little bit, by poking fun at my predicament. I did neither; I was very rehearsed in keeping a straight face. With a dorm mate like Lucius Malfoy you have to keep a straight face. Dumbledore noticed immediately, I gave him enough credit for that. He stood up slowly and in a clear voice.  
  
"I want you to perform detention with Mr. Black, tomorrow night at nine p.m."  
  
I opened my mouth in protest, and immediately closed it in indignation. If he wanted to just give me detention, it couldn't have been all that bad. At least I wouldn't have to face the Head of House. Then he added in a sullen voice, "And I will have to deduct 50 points from Slytherin House, for disruptive behavior." My teeth instinctively clenched, I had just lost any points I had earned for the house lately for making the perfect Containment Potion. I was rather proud of actually earning a substantial amount of points for once. Oh well.  
  
I made my way down the stone steps in deep thought about what to do the next Potions lesson. Could I possibly refuse to work with that blasted Gryffindor? I'd rather work with Longbottom! (the elder was even worse than the younger) The last time I had the misfortune to stumble upon said Longbottom, I had to spend two very painful, and boil ridden, nights tossing and turning. The coldness in every stare I penetrated his way was very effective as he would scoot quickly away and run into an unsuspecting Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw that felt pity for the puny boy. I never felt pity for any of them.  
  
Upon entering the dungeons I heard a cold and mirthful laugh. The silky tone to it was nearly as sugary and white as the person who claimed it. Lucius Malfoy. I tried to walk past him with the air of being unaffected by anything at all.  
  
"Did you have a nice flight, Severus?"  
  
I didn't turn, but responded in the best voice of mock. "I'm going for a record of most consecutive broom less flights out of doors, Lucius."  
  
The laughter rose again as I made my way deeper underground to the boys dormitories. It swelled in my heart that someday I would love to get even with him and all his wealth and disregard. It was a pity that we were destined to be colleagues as adults as well. What I would have given to have been sorted into Ravenclaw. I think that would be the only acceptable alternative to Slytherin. At least they think with their brains. I always felt the Gryffindor pride was much bigger than any of the organs in their heads (save for the tongues they can not hold at times). Hufflepuffs worked much too hard, and toiled much to long for my tastes. And if any house that went around with eternal optimism as much as Hufflepuff, it was no wonder they never won the House Cup.  
  
I lay on my soft bed and pulled the drapes around me. I was nearly as sick of seeing green and silver, as much as I was tired of hearing stories about make out sessions with Narcissa. It's funny, as much as I had been in classes with her, I never heard her once be called by her last name like the rest of us. Rumor had it she was part vela as well. I swear that those women ought not to be able to breed. But, watching Lucius trip over his words for once was a very delicious idea, while one was laying on ones bed. I tried to conceive my revenge; hexing Black just seemed too easy. If there were something that he had, a deep dark little secret about him, it would be lovely. My new plan was to hunt Black like the prey he so begged to be.  
  
Sadly this also meant having to stare at James Potter as well, and that was a sickening thought, indeed. I couldn't bear watching Quidditch matches that he was the key player in, of course. How I so wished that I could just jinx his blasted broom, or even pelt him with a bludger. Perhaps that is why I gave into the pleads (and threats) of the Quidditch Captain, Avery. I detested him. I detested mostly everyone in the school, come to think of it, but it gave me the option to distance myself from anyone, or anything.  
  
I dreamt of the next Quidditch match, it was to be Slytherin Vs. Ravenclaw. Of course the four Gryffindors would be there, watching, booing mostly. Booing me. I was most inclined to ask for the available Beater spot on the team. I was given the spot with slight remorse. There was a prettier looking Slytherin that so wanted the spot, but she couldn't fly a broom, much less hit flying objects while hovering on one. I was slightly pleased with this appointment.  
  
Slowly sleep crept over me that night, and thoughts of flying Bludgers crashing in Sirius Blacks head lulled me safely through the night and well into the morning. 


	3. Quidditch Gear

Greetings, and welcome back to another day of Snape torment! He just loves for someone else to tell about his past, it saves him from the ridicule. The Punk. Anyways, I am DEMANDING reviews, yeah! Push the button, Snape says so!  
  
Summary: QUIDDITCH! In all its loveliness, and brutality. Lily Evans makes her first real appearance, and there is a half naked Snape in waiting. So read on, brave one!  
Chapter Three: Quidditch Gear  
  
If only it wasn't so bright and sunny that afternoon of the most remember able match of my life (save for when I mystically caught a light once). I got into my Quidditch armor slowly and tried desperately to drown out Avery and his version of a pep talk. It mostly consisted of, "We're gonna kill them!" Or "Knock them off their brooms at all costs, I don't care if it's cheating, do it!" It was slightly disappointing that he couldn't articulate it better, and have slowed down the process of grabbing the brooms and mounting to get ready to start.  
  
Madame Hooch was the referee even then, and she's always had the same instructions about a nice clean game (mostly directed as us, as usual) and blew her whistle. The announcers voice filter softly into my sub conscience and it wasn't good.  
  
"Good afternoon everybody! Today's game is RAVENCLAW!" Of course the usual cheering from everywhere, ".against SLYTHERIN!" Weak and feeble cheering from the Slytherin box, and of course, the Four had learned the Sonorus Charm, and was booing rather loudly all around the stadium. I wanted to look back to see them get in trouble, but I felt all they got was a 'Cut it out!' by Professor McGonagol.  
  
I caught sight of a bludger-heading straight for our star Chaser, Grubb, so I descended upon it in my wraithish way. Imagining that the bludger was really Sirius Blacks head helped me pelt it away and right into the old and pitiful broom of the Ravenclaw seeker. I hadn't really been aiming for her, as much as the teams' captain claimed I was. Alas, we got our way and play was resumed with a reserve seeker for the Ravenclaws.  
  
"And that was a bad call on behalf of the Slytherins! And Thompson is brought in to replace Goodbody!"  
  
The game was beginning to get tight, with Slytherin in the lead with 75 and Ravenclaw just trailing at 60. Either way, catching the snitch would be the way to win. I hovered closely under our seeker, a small anorexic looking boy named Agripas. He'd always been quiet and determined in classes, he was my year, I recall vaguely. He was quite shorter than the rest of us, and he seemed more than just a mere child. In most ways I admired his ability to keep himself in check, while I, on the other hand, could not. If someone said something about my parents, I blew up. If you insulted my intelligence, I seethed with venom. So in many ways, Agripas was a much better Slytherin, with much more cunning, and snake like ability. What kind of snake gets angry with the charmer? Instead Agripas USED the charmer, and then when the fellow felt he had successfully done a job well done, he then struck the fool, and he didn't even know it was coming. Perfect Snake.  
  
The perfect seeker as well. Just as I was musing over his obvious talents I was brought back into reality by the WHOOSH of a bludger heading straight for the kid. I kicked at the air and shot up at the bludger just in time to pelt it away from the frail boys face. He looked at me in an apparent relieved thank you glance. I shrugged and flew away before the kid adopted me as his hero and lost us the game.  
  
I was nearly knocked off my own broom by a booming voice of James Potter (apparently the Sonorus was charmed only towards me, great) "SNAPE! LOOK WHERE YOU'RE GOING!" Then there was the deafening laughter, and the hit of a Ravenclaw pitched bludger right on the brushes of my broom. Suddenly, because that's how fast things truly happen in Quidditch, I was on the dirt on the bottom of the stadium. Sand was in my mouth and eyes, and I punched it angrily. Muttering a 'damn you Potter' and then getting up to inspect my broom. If it HAD been whole, I might have been slightly less angry. I took the two pieces and haughtily got off the pitch and headed to the locker room.  
  
There she was, sitting in the Slytherin locker room. And there I was, half naked with a towel hanging off me. I tightened it in surprise.  
  
"Lily! What are you doing here!? You're not supposed to be here!"  
  
She smiled at me ruefully, she had a way of making me forget the embarrassing positions she put me in. She glided over the stone floor and poked me in the chest. It took a lot of will power not to stumble over in my shock. "You were very good up there, today Severus. I just wanted to congratulate you. Good luck with Gryffindor next time!" She gave me an evil grin, and I blinked as she left quickly. In my stupor I had dropped the towel completely and just stood there staring after her. We were playing Gryffindor next, which meant we had won this match, but she said I had done VERY GOOD. No one had ever told me I was very good. In my excitement I didn't hear the din of the exploding Slytherin team as they came into the locker room, but to this day I cannot forget the laughter that ensued when they were confronted with my "white arse that is so tight a quill could stick out of it."  
  
I gathered up my towel in silence, a glare at anyone who pointed at said arse, or any other parts, and escaped quickly into a bathroom stall and got dressed just as hastily. This was all Blacks fault; it was his idea to yell in my head, I'm sure of it. I completely forgot about Lily's visit until later that evening. That was only after I could get Lucius to stop talking about how stunned and stark white I looked standing there in the buff as they came in.  
  
I went to bed early, before the rest of the boys could come in and harass me longer. Revenge would have to come sooner than planned, and I knew it would have to be on my grounds. Then I rolled over, a high pain in my stomach made me queasy as I fell into fitful sleep, and darling Lily Evans was the heroine. 


	4. Sweet Revenge

_Wehoo!  Fourth Installment of some serious Snape memories.  I think he likes the couch I make him lay down on for his regressive therapy.  That or he likes my corned beef and cabbage?  It's the touch of the blarney in 'im.  Heh.   ANYWAY—thank you for coming,  sit down,  relax, have some tea, or some brandy.   Don't step on any Hobbits on yer way in.  Enjoy!_

_*Presses Play*_

_Summary:  Snape begins his plans of revenge on Sirius Black,  when things become WILDLY out of hand.   He learns things he just wish he never knew,  and it will change his life FOREVER! _

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*_

**Chapter Four:  Sweet Revenge**

Plans do not always go as intended, just as the saying goes:  The best laid plans of mice and men.  I had done my own reconnaissance work on Black.  I knew that before each lunch break he went to boys lavatory, and fifteen seconds later (but only on Thursdays) a charm would go off that would explode a toilet.   It was rather tedious and I was about to give it up when the last day of the month became slightly more interesting.

Early in the evening all of the Four left their Gryffindor table, and huddled off towards their tower.   I slipped away from a boring and rather drawn out story that Malfoy was telling in his sleek twang.   I found it easy to follow them as they stumbled up the stairs.   Pettigrew nearly missed the trick step going up, but like clockwork, Black and Potter pulled him up.   I noticed something very peculiar, and it was Lupin stooped over and looking even weaker than he generally did.   When Pettigrew was back in step with the rest of them, Black and Potter took Lupins' arms and seemed to be helping him walk upright and faster.   They took a sharp turn and then were gone.   I pressed on forward, assuring myself that my distance behind them was safe.   I sneaked forward until I reached the corner where they were.

Roughly I was grabbed by my cloak.  "What are you looking for here, Snake?"

I couldn't think of anything fast enough, but my eyes narrowed quickly onto Black.  He was the only one there, the others had left, and I removed his hand from my shoulder with shrewd elegance.

"I wonder if Professor Dumbledore would like to know what you four Gryffindors are up to.   I was on my way to tell him."  I let my lips curl into the most unsavory sneer I could muster.   Black was unconvinced nevertheless.

"You are bluffing.  Rather terribly too, but if you want something to use against us," he seemed to ruminate it over in his mind and nodded to himself in agreement, "come to the Whomping Willow later this evening, use a twig to press a knot on it, it will freeze the tree in place.   A door will open; enter it.  Then you will have all the information you need."   He turned his back and ran after where he must have known the rest went.

I was left standing in the hallway just above the staircase as a filtering of younger Gryffindor passed me, whispering about this odd Slytherin.   I knew it must have been a trick, and even if it were, I would learn something more about these people that insisted on ruining my quiet existence at Hogwarts.   Perhaps I could use it against them; perhaps just knowing their dirty little secrets would be enough.  I weighed the risks carefully on my decline back to the dungeons.   It seemed to be progressively worth it.

The evening grew darker as I watched out of a minute window from my dorm room.   Anxiety swelled in my stomach, and after being ill in a sink, I made my way back up to the Great Hall.  I dodged little Professor Flitwick with effortlessness, and then ran for the front door and slipped out of it silently.   My eyes darted around for the Whomping Willow, the throbbing of my heart was vociferous.   I had to repeat to myself that it would be over soon, that it was probably just another practical joke to lessen me even more in their eyes.   I would show them, without doubt.   I checked for my wand, and gripped it steadfastly as I replaced it to my cloak pocket.

I shuffled towards the willow and was thrashed roughly by a branch.   A cut above my eyelid began to sting, and the steady trickle of blood made it hard to spot the crooked twig that was placed in a secure and reasonably noticeable position.   I couldn't find it in me to snarl in irritation, as a branch was making my abdomen into tenderized beef.   I grabbed for the branch, letting my wand drop back down into the pocket safely, and poked at any knob I saw on the tree.    My eyes were squeezed firmly and I was ready to make my withdrawl back into the castle when everything became still and silent.   The tree began to situate erect once more, and an entryway slid open before  me.

I slid down the constricted, and rather rank passageway.   In the distance I could hear dim howling and things crashing.   I passed it off again (imprudently) as sounds made by the Four to scare me off.  The scuttle of a mouse running past my feet and towards the Whomping Willows entrance made me pause for an instant.  The sounds became louder, and more suggestive of two dogs fighting  each other.   A glow became visible at the end of the hallway, and I chastised myself for causing unwarranted tension by not performing a simple Lumos spell.   The growling, and snarling became relentless.   Something was beating alongside the walls roughly; dust came down on me from the ceiling above.   I knew I must have found an entrance into a house.  It hadn't been far, as I hadn't been walking too much, it had to be in the vicinity of Hogsmeade.

This in itself would be enough to get those cretins off my back.  I would just explain to the Headmaster how they tricked me into following them into a secret passage that led into Hogsmeade.    I shook my head, that wasn't good enough, I had to have proof, and I had to make it good enough for them to be expelled.   I didn't want to have to go any further.   The house had become dissonantly silent.   Then I heard voices, HUMAN voices.

"Sirius, wake up!  PADFOOT, GET UP!  He's escaping, we've got to stop him!"  It was Potter.   There was no response from Black, who I assumed had caused all this noise.  But WHO had escaped?  There was heavy panting in the hall, the scant light only casted pale shadows on the wall in front of me.  I checked my own breathing; it was rapid, but not so deep.

There was a low snarl, and then a growl, and I felt something fly towards me.

"STUPEFY!"  The thing was hit and it fell to my side with a intense THUDand I stared at it.  Muttering a quiet "Lumos" as I took my wand out, I saw what it was in fact.   A werewolf. With shining yellow eyes staring straight up at me hungrily.   Potter stepped over him carefully, and pushed me away.

"Hurry!  There isn't much time, he doesn't stay stunned for long! Severus, get YOURSELF OUT!"

I pointed my wand at the creature; I couldn't help my hand from quivering with the current surprise.   Nothing came to mind on what to do.  My legs refused to move with Potters commands.

  
"This is a Dark Creature.  It MUST be killed, WE must kill it, Potter!"

"NO!  You can't kill him, you can't!  Get out of here, save yourself, I know how to deal with him!"

Still my legs refused to move, there was a murmur in the room by the door, a painful whimper called to Potter.  "James?  Is Moony gone?"

"No Padfoot!  I'm getting Severus out!"  he called back and he shoved me down the hallway, physically.   For someone that seemed to lack a strong musculature, such as James Potter, he was very powerful when he appeared to be alarmed. As we reached the entrance back to the outer surface, we heard the padding of paws running after us, and irate growling.

Potter shoved me out of the opening and I landed face first into the dirt above.   If I hadn't seen the werewolf, and heard the growling or the fight proceeding Potters' lifesaving ability, I wouldn't have believed what I heard next.   I heard the hoof beats that reminded me of a horse, or goat.  Something big, at least.   I did not, however, hear growling again and I swiftly made a run back into the castle and down into my subterranean hideaway.   I was shaking as I dressed for bed, I could hardly tie my hair back.  It was all too much, I knew now that Potter and Black were in serious trouble if they were simply taking care of a Dark Creature, and the worst of them all (save for Vampires) a Werewolf.   

Slipping into the green and silver sheets, as habitual in Slytherin dorms, I wondered to myself.   Where were Lupin and Pettigrew in all these dramas?   Why did I hear TWO distinct canine sounds?   Where were HOOF BEATS coming from?  It all too easily came crashing together, like a train wreck.  

Animagi.   And illegal ones at that.


	5. Keeping Secrets

_I have returned! Muwhaha!  And this alas is the shortest chapter of the five,  and the worst to write!  *pointed glare at Snape*  It just seemed to end a particularly good juncture,  and I will think of what to do to him, and the Marauders, next time!  So keep reading on and checking up on me!  I won't be long, promise!   So click the button—you know you wanna! _

Summary:  The aftermath of what Severus found in the tunnel going to the Whomping Willow. 

**Chapter Five:  Keeping Secrets**

In the days to come I found it exceptionally simple to steer clear of the Four, as they evidently had the same plan to evade me.   Every time I laid eyes on that despondent facade of Lupins', he seemed to be imploring me to keep my peace about their secrets.    He didn't even know if I had gone to the Headmaster already or not, it was that self-satisfying everlasting confidence in me that made me feel shameful.   I didn't need this kind of distress on my shoulders.    Was it enough to ask for a sensibly decent non-existence in this world exclusive of having to stride into people's dilemmas with both feet?

Pettigrew tried the hardest to keep away from me, he bought into the rumors of my hex and cursing ability, and I also admit, I played into them on his behalf.   Every time we would meet up around a corner by misfortune, he would begin to quiver and stammer.   I would knit my brows together when looking at him, as if examining an appealing new specimen for a new potion.   Of course he had that obstinate Gryffindor audacity, and he refused to move from my sight for those elongated moments, until I would open my mouth to ask him to move.  He'd flitter away before I strung two words together.   Lucius found this especially amusing and naturally the story would develop in the Slytherin locker room into immense duels between Pettigrew and me.   This was not a huge deed, but the result of Pettigrew having sprouted mouse ears and a tail were the highlights.    I still became despondent when lunch breaks would come and I'd have to glide past the Gryffindor table.

These were the only times when the Four would assemble together, each giving me a solitary gaze.  Pettigrew:  One of absolute fright, Black: One of absolute and unreserved loathing, Potter:  One of varied sentiment, disgrace and resentment (that one I could never figure out), and Lupin:  One of reliance.   I detested them all for their stares!   I began to abhor them all disjointedly for virtually ending my life that night.  And thus, began my campaign to be rid of them all without more ado.   I made a full circle when I reached the Slytherin table and headed back out the doors of the dinning hall and up the flight of stairs towards were I had heard the Headmasters office was.

After asking a prefect, that was guarding the Professors' break room a little too intently, he pointed me towards the accurate gargoyle.    Unfortunately in his over eagerness he failed to give me the proper password.   I dug deep in my memory to remember what it was the previous occasion I was here.   I mumbled lowly, "Tutti Frutti".  The gargoyle seemed pleased to leap aside with that appalling phrase.

I made my way up the staircase with great displeasure.   On one hand I felt safe with the Headmaster, free to say whatever I liked.  On the other hand, I was soon to become a servant of the Headmasters greatest foe, and I couldn't divulge much of my life to him, safely.   He looked up at me, no hint of surprise, and offered me a seat.

"I see you find it necessary to come at last, Severus."

A quizzical look passed over my face, I'd heard that the Headmaster seemed almost omnipotent, but this was too much.  I shook it out of my head as mere coincidence and sighed into my hands.

"Headmaster.  I have to tell you that I broke curfew two nights ago.  I went to the Whomping Willow under the urging of Sirius Black.  Inside a passage under the willow, I met up with James Potter, and a—a—werewolf."

The Headmaster looked at me, no visible emotion on his face, and motioned for me to continue.   I breathed in quickly.

"The werewolf was rabid in the moonlight, and lunged at me, nearly taking my life.  Potter stunned the werewolf, and told me to run.   After I was physically pushed out of the corridor, and the opening closed.  I heard….fighting with the werewolf.  I believe that Black and Potter are trying to break the rules, and keep a werewolf as a pet of some kind."

A fabrication of sorts,  but even the smallest lie is full of something true.


	6. Hestitations

_Ah, it's taken me a long time to get the courage to write more of this, and to pry the rest of the details out of Severus.  *points to tied up Potions Master* Isn't that LUVLY?!  I think he's rather cute gagged and tied.  Muwhahaha!   Anyway, I'd like to thank those of you that are reading this quibble.   Especially Tantz!_

**Summary:  Severus finds out some of the truth behind the Marauders, and more of Lily!**

**~~~~**

**Chapter Six:  Hesitation and Confusion**

Had I even the slightest idea that the Headmaster was involved in Lupins' lycanthrophy, I would have felt the fool immediately when I confided in him my where about for the evening past.   He just gave me a piercing glance and sighed as he sat down heavily in his chair.

"Severus.  I know that Remus Lupin is a werewolf."

The shock overcame me and I exclaimed, "You must do something about him then!  He's dangerous!"   Confusion crossed the older mans face as I said this.    He shook his head slowly and knitted his fingers.

"Severus, I knew Remus was a werewolf when I accepted him into the school.  Now, don't be discouraged, I AM rather disappointed that Mr. Potter, and Mr. Black were in that tunnel along with him.   If you don't mind me asking, why were YOU there, Mr. Snape?"

Internally I winced, when the Headmaster called you by your last name in your presence is was never a good thing.   I opened and closed my mouth many times.  _Just like a blasted Gryffindor—caught in the act! _ I thought to myself.    Finally the words came to me.

"Sirius Black told me that I would see something that would help in Defense Against the Dark Arts.   I knew that breaking the rules was wrong though, and I'm sorry."

The room became dramatically silent for many moments, and I had no choice but to look around.   A phoenix in the back of the office caught my eye, as Phoenix's are meant to do such.   Something about the bird made my stomach turn.   The way it trilled as its eyes met mine, the way that brought the Headmasters attention to it, and not me.   He stroked it plumage carefully and sang to it softly.    Secretly I hated that bird, and only because no one had ever treated ME as nicely as that bag of feathers was being treated.

When he finally realized I was still in the office, the Headmaster smiled at me and motioned me over.

"This is Fawkes.   My faithful companion, I really don't even like calling him my pet, even if that the logical term."   He cooed more to the bird than to me, and Fawkes gave me another piercing stare.   A muscle in my cheek twitch, and that was about as close to a smile as I was going to give to something with a beak and talons.

"I'm going to have think about what to do about this situation, Severus.   I'm sure that your Head of House will have something to say about the matter of you being out past curfew."  Just as I was about to object, since that would have me hanging in the lowest dungeons for a week, the Headmaster put his hand up, "I will explain to him that you have reasonably paid your punishment already.  Will that be sufficient, Severus?"

"What about the others, sir?"

"That will be their business, Severus.  Now run along, I'm sure you are still hungry after all."

We parted with equal glances and I morosely made my back into the Dining Hall.    The Four were not there, thank Merlin.    As I sat down, Lucius shoved some kind of pudding in front of me and whispered conspiratorially, "Our fathers have done well for the Dark Lord recently."

I side glanced him and muttered an "And?"

"The Dark Lord wants us to come to him these holidays, to test our fitness for the role of Death Eater.   Crabbe and Goyle are coming as well.   As are Avery and Lestrange."

"So the whole group.  You could have just said it that succinctly, Malfoy."

A queer grin played upon his face as he ate and stared at me like there truly could have been something in his twisted blonde head that I didn't know.   "McNair has been at home for the last two days, did you know?"

"Potions.  He blew up have the cauldrons."  I rolled my eyes at the mere memory of that.

"It was the plan, Snape.  The Dark Lord has already given him the Mark!"

I pushed away the bowl immediately and stared at him.  "THE Mark?"  He nodded reverently.    To be marked was a great thing in our circle.   It meant that the Dark Lord accepted you in his Highest Order.    I'd never gotten the chance to clearly see The Mark on anyone; my father had tentatively hidden it from me.    In some ways that was the only reason why I wanted one in my youth, was so I could stare at it long hours and admire its wealth of responsibility in the world.  That I, one day, would be in the Dark Lords' league of Death Eaters, that I would be able to rid the world, in my own small way, of the unworthy and the filth.    Perhaps that would even entail sending Potter and Black to Azkaban for being who THEY truly were.  Pests.

The buzz around the table at the time was the narration of my thoughts.     How wonderful it would be to join a stronger league than those opposed to the extinction of Muggle born creatures in this world.   From the younger side of the table it was the same kind of conversation by it was toned down into the extinction of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team this upcoming game.    The vile taste in my mouth came up again, and it was only a coincidence that Malfoy happened to turn to me as I vomited.    There was something deep down inside me (or at least there had been) that was protesting against all this contemptuous chatter.   My body made the excuse for me to get away from it as quickly as possible and not have Lucius Malfoy grab me to stop, as he was in complete and utter horror and was running to the laundry to change out his pristine uniform.

Panting unceremoniously as I reached the hospital wing, I tried to find the Head Nurse immediately to help me with something to settle my stomach.  I knew it wasn't the initial problem, but I always stuck to the course that was directly in front of me.  It wouldn't help to be caught lingering in the halls, as my own Head of House was out for my blood, as I was sure that Professor McGonagall would be as well. Her star Chaser and one of the Beaters were sure to be suspended from the team for putting other students in danger.   The night's events were clouding my mind as Madam Pomfrey ushered me onto a cot.

She charmed a crude looking thermometer into my mouth, and there was no way I could spit it out.   The mercury rose slowly and my eyes ached as they were crossed to watch.   When a chime went off she rushed back to me and plucked the instrument from my mouth and looked at me intently.

"You most certainly have the Freckled Flu.   No use sending you back.  Lie Down Snape."

This was certainly the cap of the evening.  I had the flu, I couldn't explain this to any of my counterparts in the dungeon, and my disappearance would be noticed by the slimiest of my friends.  The one that would want reimbursement for cleaning of his silk scarves I'm sure.    I lay down as the nurse prattled on about how the night would be dreadful for me, and that I must drink the serum so that the freckles wouldn't be nearly as red when they did appear.   Somewhere a voice in my mind said that she probably enjoyed telling students they were in for the night of their lives every time they were injured or sick, but it passed silently in the night as the serum began to take affect.   

A slight prickling in my skin marked the entrance of the freckles, and the laziness of my eyes marked the beginning of a fitful nights rest in the cold and sanitary hospital wing.


End file.
